Love is Scary

I’m incredibly claustrophobic. I can’t get in elevators by myself. If push comes to shove and I have no choice but to go up to the 10th floor of a building, having someone in there with me puts my mind at a bit of ease. If the elevator gets stuck, I can (hopefully) rely on them to figure out how to get us out while I have a panic attack.

Otherwise, I opt for the stairs. I learned in therapy that it’s easier to avoid the things that scare us when we have alternatives. When I don’t have a choice but to get into a dreaded elevator because I know I would pass out from exhaustion from taking the stairs, I’m able to make it work. If I don’t have anyone to ride with, I clam up so intensely, I feel like I could vomit. If I can’t take the stairs, I have to wait for someone to ride with me.

It’s a pain, to say the least.

This type of avoidant behavior has followed me into other parts of my life, namely love. The first time a new boyfriend told me he loved me a couple of years ago, my mind shut down, just like at the doors of an elevator. I loved him too but couldn’t get the words to form on my tongue.

It was late at night. I had to get back home to get ready for work the next morning. We had been lying in bed when he professed his love (on my birthday) as I was getting ready to head out.

I beat myself up for not allowing myself to express how I felt. I tried to soothe myself by chalking it up to him possibly being half asleep and just mumbling something that he didn’t mean.

I knew better than that.

I was too embarrassed to address this with the man I loved, and we never talked about it. I had endless chances to get over my fear and tell him how I really felt, but I didn’t. I was angry for not allowing myself to be vulnerable with him and move onto this new chapter of our relationship.

It wasn’t until almost six months later, on his birthday, that he said those three words again. (I guess birthdays are the day to profess love).

This time, I didn’t hesitate. I knew I hadn’t misheard him, and I had buried my feelings for too long.

The words slid off my tongue like water. I could say them without fear.

Then, his behavior started to change. He became angry and was prone to outbursts when something didn’t go his way. He didn’t know how to have tough conversations or express himself when emotions ran high. We had been dating for over a year, and maybe by knowing that I loved him, he knew he had me locked in and could show me who he truly was. The honeymoon phase was over.

I couldn’t help but wonder, did he actually mean it when he said he loved me?

People don’t treat those they love the way he was starting to treat me. Needless to say, within three months, we were over. His lack of boundaries and blatant disrespect showed me that he was a narcissist. I didn’t expect him to change; he showed me who he really was, and I had to accept it.

The idea of allowing myself to be in another situation like that, after overcoming so many mixed feelings and personal issues, makes me cringe a little. The experience reinforced that I have to keep my guard up.

Like with the elevator, it’s easy to say that one bad experience won’t predict the outcome of future events. But the mind is a powerful thing, especially when it’s convinced that something is unsafe. I’m now working with my therapist to learn how to be vulnerable while feeling safe in relationships.

I know people who demonstrate love through their actions are out there, somewhere. I’m just not in the mind space to go looking for them right now.

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Thank you for reading. Feel free to share your thoughts and experiences.

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This post was previously published on medium.com.

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From The Good Men Project on Medium

What Does Being in Love and Loving Someone Really Mean?

My 9-Year-Old Accidentally Explained Why His Mom Divorced Me

The One Thing Men Want More Than Sex

The Internal Struggle Men Battle in Silence

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